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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24686416">Odi et Amo (I Hate and I Love)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryogirl/pseuds/cryogirl'>cryogirl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rhett &amp; Link</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst and Feels, Barbarian Rhett, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Roman Soldier Link, Slavery</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:29:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,364</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24686416</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryogirl/pseuds/cryogirl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Roman Empire in the first century AD.</p><p>The legionary Linctus is captured by a group of barbarians who are seeking out revenge for the Romans’ invasion of their territory.</p><p>His fate seems sealed, until a young barbarian makes him an unusual offer. Maybe love and friendship will be enough to build a bridge between their very different worlds.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Captured</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic is mostly historically accurate, and I spent hours of research on it. If some things don’t make sense at first glance— they will be explained later on in the story. </p><p>The posting schedule for the first chapters is Fridays and Tuesdays.</p><p>Thank you to @enthusiasticaudience for reading this first and cheering me on!</p><p>Enjoy?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <em>The Northern border of the Roman Empire</em>
</p><p>
  <em>86 AD</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The world was dark and heavy.</p><p>There was a deep ache in his head, and when he slowly opened his eyes and the light hit his vision it turned into a blinding pain. Linctus didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know who or what the shadows around him were; and, worst of all, he didn’t know where his comrades were.</p><p>If there was one thing Linctus knew, it was this; a legionary who was separated from his legion on enemy territory was dead. Instinctively he extended his right hand and tilted it so that his open palm was facing the sky.</p><p>“Divine Fortune, may you be well, may you look kindly on me. I ask that you might let your light shine on me and help me in this dark hour.</p><p>”Noble Honos, God of honour and strength, I pray to you, I do you reverence. I ask your grace and favour that you might let me die with decency and valour, so that my father may look upon my sacrifice with pride. May you know the sincerity of my request by…”</p><p>Linctus’ prayers were interrupted by a harsh voice in a foreign tongue. He lifted his head, slowly, and finally opened his eyes all the way. There was a fire, thick smoke spiralling into the cool air and disappearing in the evening sky. Around the flames sat a group of men, eight or nine maybe, and they all stared at him with a strange, wild ferocity.</p><p><em>Germani</em>.</p><p>Of course. Linctus had been on an exploratory patrol with a small division of his cohort when they had attacked the Roman soldiers. The barbarians were strong and brave; there was no doubt that his comrades were dead. </p><p>One of the men stepped closer to Linctus and directly spoke to him. It was gibberish to Linctus, all he was able to conclude from the throaty sounds was confirming his assumption that he’d fallen into the hands of Germanic people, but he didn’t know who they were or what they were going to do to him. His feet were bound and he had a painful head wound. He was about to close his eyes again and send another prayer to the Gods when the man in front of him bellowed something and another man stood up, younger than the other ones. He was much taller than anyone else, but he wore the same rough-spun clothes. His reddish hair was long and unkempt, as was his beard.</p><p>The older man pushed him towards where Linctus was crouching on the wet forest soil. “Ave, romanus” the younger barbarian said, his voice coarse and laced with a strange, rumbling accent. Nevertheless, he spoke Linctus’ language, and that gave Linctus the opportunity to find out which tribe his captors belonged to and whether it would be worthwhile to try and negotiate with them.</p><p>“Greetings, stranger. Who are you, and what’s your tribe?” </p><p>The translator turned to his kinsman and repeated the words in their odd language. Apparently Linctus’ question irritated the older man, because he grunted and spat a string of words in his direction.</p><p>“Wilfrich says that you are the stranger in these lands, not us. He wants to know your name and rank.”</p><p>They wanted to know who he was so they could decide whether it was worth it to negotiate a ransom with Linctus’ centurion, there was no doubt about it. Linctus’ mind was racing, he was trying to remember everything he’d been taught for the eventuality of being captured by an enemy; however every story he knew ended with a heroic death. Was it wise to let the Germani know his identity?</p><p><br/>He didn’t have much choice at this point.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m Lucius Naevius Linctus” he said, his tone proud and defiant. “I am a soldier of the first cohort of the legion XIII Caesar.”</p><p> </p><p>Once more his words were repeated and the men nodded slightly. Linctus asked about their tribe again.</p><p>“We’re Chatti” the young man said, and now that he’d said it Linctus recognised the distinctive dialect and the warriors’ clothing. The Chatti were a strong tribe, brave, and their territory stretched from the Eastern border of the Roman Empire to the hills and mountains of the Southern Germania. Linctus’s cohort had been send very close to the edge of their lands, and his group must’ve overstepped the invisible line which separated civilisation from wilderness at some point during their exploration.</p><p>Now he was their prisoner, and his fate was sealed.</p><p>“Where are the other soldiers who were with me? Did you kill them?”</p><p>The young Chattus nodded. “They are dead, as a blood tribute to the Chatti people who were killed by your army. You were… spared.” He gave the older men a nervous glance.</p><p>“Why me? Why was my life spared?” Linctus didn’t understand. </p><p>“It was me” was the crude answer. “I didn’t kill you.”</p><p>The other Chattus spoke up before Linctus had a chance to ask more questions. The young man listened and nodded before he turned back to Linctus.</p><p>“You are our prisoner. It is late now, but tomorrow we will take you back to our village where the council will decide your fate.”</p><p>Linctus closed his eyes. He was a Roman; he had the strength of the entire Empire in him. Despite that, he couldn’t suppress the fear creeping up his chest and clutching his heart. His fate was in the barbarians’ hands as much as it was in the hands of the Gods. <em>Help me, Mars. Help me, Fortune.</em></p><p>The Chatti council’s verdict was sure to be either death or slavery. Linctus couldn’t decide which of these options were the worse prospect. Of course he wanted to live, dreaded to leave this world in the dishonourable fashion of being slaughtered by the hand of an enemy without his weapons, without the support of his compatriots.</p><p>A life as slave to a Chattus however would be worse than that. These tribes weren’t like the Romans, they didn’t treat their property with respect and kindness like Linctus’ father for example had always done. Sure, a slave was still more a thing than a human being to most citizens, but at least they had rights and the chance to buy their freedom once they reached the age of thirty.</p><p>The Germani wouldn’t be this kind to Linctus if they chose to make him their thrall. The Roman army had fought the Chatti tribe a few years back over a territory near the Eastern border of the empire. Many villages had been destroyed and thousands of Chatti had been killed. Linctus hadn’t taken part in this war, but to the Germanic people all Romans were the same. They would treat him with nothing but hatred and contempt.</p><p>The noises around him told Linctus that his captors had gone back to their bonfire, but he was sure they’d be having an eye on him during the night. There was nothing he could do. He leaned back, trying to find a comfortable position despite the tight bonds around his ankles, and let the sound of the wind in the leaves above him lull him into a deep and feverish slumber.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Bound</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I mentioned a posting schedule, didn’t I? Well, that won’t work, apparently. ;)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Again, Linctus woke in pain.</p><p>This time it was because of a hard kick in the ribs he received from one of the Chatti. The man bellowed something he didn’t understand, but it was obvious that he wanted Linctus to stand up. Linctus got to his knees and lifted himself from the ground, wary of the bonds around his ankles; he noticed the same sharp pain in his head he’d felt the night before, now mixed with a burning ache in his stiff limbs.</p><p>The Chattus pulled a knife out of his belt and cut the ties on L’s feet before refastening them around his wrist. It gave Linctus the ability to move and walk, but without full control over his arms it would be impossible to run more than a few steps.</p><p>The man grunted and left. Linctus looked around the small encampment and noticed that all the other Chatti were up and packing their things up. There was half a dozen horses, much bigger and more light-built than the cobby animals Linctus had ridden in his legion. That was probably due to the fact that most Germani Linctus had ever come across were at least two palms taller than Roman men. His captors were no exception; they were all big, but especiallyh the young man who’d translated the day before was towering over all the men present.</p><p>Linctus watched him for a while, thinking about his strange remark. He’d said that he specifically hadn’t killed Linctus. What did that mean? Linctus didn’t have time to ponder further when the Chatti mounted their horses. The one who had replaced his bonds earlier came and led Linctus to a cream coloured mare. He tied a long piece of rope to Linctus’s bound wrists and tied the other end to the horse’s saddle. Suddenly, another man swung his legs over the mare’s back and grasped the leather reins. Linctus looked up and saw the translator gaze down on him. His lips were tightly pressed together and his expression was almost saturnine, the scowl emphasised by the full beard that masked his youth.</p><p>When he met Linctus’s gaze, he quickly turned his head away and let his horse fall into a walk. The rope around Linctus’s wrist forced him to follow closely behind; the forest ground was muddy and uneven and without his arms for leverage he stumbled often.</p><p> </p><p>——</p><p> </p><p>The morning air was cold and misty, making Linctus shiver. He realised that he was only wearing his knee-length woollen tunic and thin linen undergarments. His belt, his cape and all his armour was gone. </p><p>It would have been futile to ask for blanket or more clothes, so Linctus gritted his teeth and walked on. The last two years in the army had taught him to ignore the pain and the cold— marching through foreign land for weeks on end, the back weighed down by weapons and armour had killed most of the sensitivity he used to have.</p><p> </p><p>Worse than the cold and the wounds was the humiliation. Like any Roman, Linctus was proud to a certain degree and to be tied to a barbarian’s horse and dragged through the dirt like a bag of wheat hurt more than any head wound. An hour along the way Linctus tripped over a branch and fell. He couldn’t use his hands to catch his fall and crashed face first into the solid ground. The Chatti men laughed and sneered as he struggled to get back to his feet; only the young translator glanced back at him with what Linctus could only describe as pity. In the blink of an eye, the soft expression was gone and the man told him to hurry up. Still Linctus  felt like he was slowing his horse down after that, so much that they fell behind the group for a while.</p><p>The young man gave Linctus another glance and twisted his nose nervously. It looked as if he wanted to say something, but he remained silent.</p><p>“What is it?” Linctus asked, aware that the other men wouldn’t be able to hear them. The Chattus quickly shook his head and looked back at the path ahead of them. </p><p>He didn’t look back at Linctus for the next five hours.</p><p>After noon the sky opened up and big raindrops started to splatter on the green roof of leaves and onto the small group of warriors underneath them. Linctus didn’t even feel the water, lost in his mind where he thought of his legion and prayed for his fallen comrades. Only when the first thunder growled above them he left his dazed state and noticed that the group had stopped. </p><p>“What’s going on?” He shot the translator a glance as he dismounted his horse.</p><p>“There will be a storm. We have to wait until it is over before we can continue the journey.”</p><p>Linctus sighed. Another day until his fate would be decided upon. Another night of nagging uncertainty. “When will we reach your village?”</p><p>The Chattus untied the rope from his saddle. “Tomorrow” was his clipped answer. He went over to a large tree and fastened the rope securely around a high branch Linctus would never be able to reach with his short arms. Then he left and joined his tribesmen who were putting up camp underneath the protecting leaf roof of a couple of oaks.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Taken again</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The storm blustered the rest of the afternoon and the entire evening. The rain drops hailed down in in thick drops, drenching the forest ground with icy water. Linctus sent countless prayers to Jupiter -the god of the sky and the thunder- so that he may stop these floods, but they went unanswered. Wet and shivering Linctus waited for the rain to come to an end and for the night to pass.</p><p>At one point one of the barbarians brought Linctus a piece of bread which he gulped down in two greedy bites. It was flavourless and brittle, a vast difference to the soft wheat bread he was used to; it didn’t matter, hungry as he was.    </p><p>The translator didn’t talk to him. He sat a few feet away from the fire and the other men, and his hunched figure was hardly distinguishable through the heavy rain and the dim light, but a few times it almost seemed as if he was watching Linctus. </p><p>When the exhaustion became too much despite the cold and the ache, Linctus curled up as much as he could and closed his eyes. He must’ve fallen asleep at one point, because he woke up with a start when he felt a hand on his wet shoulder. He looked around, every fibre of his body alert. It was still pitch black, but the rain and the storm had ceased. Someone was shaking him gently.</p><p>“Romanus. Wake!” a voice whispered and Linctus realised it had to be the young translator. Who else would speak Latin to him? He panicked even more now. The Chattus had probably come to get and execute him in the middle of the night. Maybe the barbarians had conferred and decided that it would be easier for them to get rid of him right there and then. Linctus squirmed and struggled against the restraints. He wasn’t ready to go, not like this; not getting sticked like a pig.</p><p>“Calm down! Be quiet,” the young man ordered. “Be quiet so I can open the ties.”</p><p>He reached up and cut the rope from the tree. Linctus didn’t understand what he was doing. “What do you want?” he asked.</p><p>“Psst!” The Chattus pulled Linctus to his feet and took his arm to lead him away from the tree. Their steps were muffled by the wet leaves under their feet, and Linctus could hear some of the men at the other end of the camp snoring.</p><p>“Where are we going?” The young man obviously didn’t want his tribesmen to know what he was doing. They were next to one of the horses now, the mare Linctus had been tied to earlier.</p><p>“You’re coming with me.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Later” the man said and fastened a few strings on the saddle before he jumped onto the horse’s back. He grabbed Linctus  and hoisted him behind him onto the mare. Linctus was astonished by his strength, throwing him around like a doll.<br/>
With a last concerned glance at the sleeping Chatti the man spurred his horse on and they disappeared into the dark forest, leaving nothing behind but the sound of hooves on the wet ground and a piece of rope dangling in the wind.</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>——</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They rode until the first morning light sparkled through the green leaves around them. They had never left the seemingly infinite forest, though Linctus felt like they were going into the direction they had come from the day before. It was hard to tell in these wild woods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Chattus hadn’t talked to him all night, ignoring his occasional questions. Now he halted the horse and dismounted, leading the mare over to a hidden spot behind a large shrub. He pulled Linctus down from her back and sat him down on the mossy ground, making sure not to hurt Linctus’s head wound. It was a strangely gentle gesture for a barbarian.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man retrieved a small bottle from his belt and offered it to Linctus.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Drink” he said. Linctus looked at the bottle and shook his head. Maybe the Chattus has poisoned the water. The Germani knew a lot of deceitful ways to kill someone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The young man grunted when Linctus refused to drink and took a sip himself. Afterwards he offered the bottle to Linctus again, who took it between his bound hands and drank greedily. The cool liquid rushed down his sore throat like an elixir of life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After he’d emptied the jug, the Chattus took it away and put it back. “We don’t have much time to rest,” he remarked in his low, throaty accent. “The others will already be looking for us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was the confirmation of Linctus’s suspicion that he had been abducted once more. “Why did you take me with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Chattus sat down opposite L, staring directly into his eyes. “I need you, romanus. You will help me find somebody.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whom would Linctus know who this stranger needed to find? It made no sense. “For whom are you looking?” he asked cautiously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A woman. She was taken away by your people.” The man pressed his lips together and looked away. He didn’t elaborate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Taken away?” The Roman army sometimes plundered barbarian villages, taking the women and men who survived back home as slaves. It helped to make the rebellious Germani fear the power of the empire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Chattus nodded. “Can you find her for me?” There was an almost painful amount of hope in his voice, and Linctus reckoned if he’d trick his own kinsmen and risk getting killed for it in order to get a Roman’s help, he really must be desperate to find that woman.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But how was Linctus supposed to find her? There were millions of slaves in Rome, and millions more all across the provinces. It was impossible to trace one single Chatti woman.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why should I help you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The young Chattus seemed surprised. “You are my slave now. You have to,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if I don’t?” Linctus challenged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then I will take you back to my tribe. They will make you a sacrifice to the gods, or they will make you their slave. Either way you are going to be killed.” The man shrugged. “But if you help me, I help you. When we have found her, I will let you go wherever you want, romanus. Freedom or death, it’s your choice.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Linctus was at the other one’s mercy. The man could’ve killed him any moment if he wished to do so. And even if he didn’t, what if Linctus couldn’t find the person he was searching? Would he let him free nevertheless? There was nothing but uncertainty ahead of Linctus if he decided to follow this stranger. On the other side, if he didn’t choose him, certain death awaited him. It was an easy decision to make.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will help you.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Ride</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They continued their ride after only a few more minutes of rest. Linctus was lifted onto the mare’s back once more and they took a narrow path deeper into the forest. The landscape was wild and undulated and the fresh leaves the early spring had produced filled every little gap with a vibrant green, making it almost impossible for Linctus to orientate. The Chattus seemed to know the territory like the back of his hand; he found hidden paths and steered the horse around boulders and through deep ravines.  </p><p>The mare walked slowly but steadily, following her master’s lead patiently. Their relaxed pace concerned Linctus. Weren’t they on the run from the other Chatti? He was sure they were hunting them down in this very moment.</p><p>After about two hours of riding (it was hard to keep track of the time because the sun was concealed by the canopy of leaves) Linctus put his apprehension into words. “Do you think your… relatives are following us?”</p><p>“They are.” The young man spoke calmly, not offering further explanation. Linctus dared to ask another question. “Shouldn’t we hurry, then?”</p><p>The Chattus growled and shook his head. “The forest isn’t a race track, slave. Do you want to break your neck because the horse trips over a root?”</p><p>Linctus remained silent after that, silenced by his captor’s ridicule. He had called him ‘slave’. Lucius Naevius Linctus, son of a nobleman and a citizen of Rome, a slave. Defeated, humiliated and claimed by an uncivilised wild man, Linctus’ pride was slowly breaking apart. </p><p>The hours passed like honey, viscously running through his mind. He didn’t care where they were going, the pain in his head and the burn in his legs from the uncomfortable position on the horseback melted into a dull ache.</p><p>Before he knew it, dusk arrived and the Chattus had led them onto an open trail surrounded by small beeches. </p><p>Linctus let his eyes settle on the strong shoulders of the man in front of him. The quiet Chattus was a mystery to him. The day before he had seemed just like the other men of his tribe, proud and wild. Then he had fled and practically stolen Lictus from his own relatives, thus betraying his entire tribe. Why did he speak Latin? Where did he come from? Linctus didn’t even know his name, and yet he was supposed to accompany him on this risky journey. He had laid his life into this stranger’s hands. It was only fair that he knew his name.</p><p>“What is your name?” he asked abruptly and the other man winced slightly at the sudden question. “That’s none of your business, romanus,” he said.</p><p>“I think it is,” Linctus argued. “You’re dragging me through this wilderness, and your kinsmen could find you at any moment. If I die for you, at least I want to know your name.” The man in the saddle in front of him clicked his tongue, but he answered.</p><p>“Raidho.” The way he said his name sounded strange to Linctus ears, throaty and outlandish.</p><p>“Retta?” he tried to mimic. The Chattus laughed, for the first time since L had been with him. It sounded hoarse and didn’t last very long.</p><p>“No, <em>Raidho</em>.” Linctus tried to say the uncommon name in his mind a few times while the Chattus (Raidho, Raidho) was silent. It was hard to get his tongue to form the same hard sounds the other man made so effortlessly. After a couple of minutes Raidho spoke up again. “Your name is Linctus, right?”</p><p>Linctus was surprised that he remembered. His name had been mentioned only once and that had been days ago. “Yes, it is.” He noticed that the way Raidho pronounced his name sounded almost as funny as when he tried to say ‘Raidho.</p><p>“That’s a strange name.” Raidho’s remark sounded snide, but it was softened by the tiny smile Linctus caught when he looked over the man’s shoulder. “Does it mean something?”</p><p>“It’s my cognomen, a nickname to differentiate me from my father who has the same first name as me. It means ‘licked’.”</p><p>“Licked?” Raidho asked, and it was obvious how curious he was but at the same time tried to appear uninterested and superior. Why should a slave’s name mean anything to a Germanic warrior, he tried to convey.</p><p> Similarly, Linctus didn’t know why he should tell the story behind his name to a barbarian who had abducted him and held him prisoner. It was a very personal thing, with a lot of fond memories of home connected to it. The path to Rome was long though, and Linctus had no interest in spending the journey in silence.</p><p>“I grew up on my father’s country estate a few hours from Mediolanium. My family has wheat fields and cattle there. When I was still a young child, barely able to walk, my mother found me near the stables one day, sitting on the ground and a cow licking all over my face. I don’t remember this incident, but my mother said I was giggling and laughing; since that day, everyone calls me Linctus.”</p><p>Linctus’s mind was suddenly filled with images of his home; the large villa with the cypresses growing in the yard, the stables with the horses and the chicken he chased around, the roses in his mother’s garden… His heart grew heavy at the thought of his mother, and he tried to distract himself by asking a question.</p><p>“What does Raidho mean?”</p><p>Raidho turned his head for a second and looked at Linctus over his shoulder. “Raidho means ‘the ride’ or ‘journey’. It is an old word that represents the changing of times. The rhythm of life.” </p><p>Linctus liked the sound of his explanation. He could understand now why Raidho would find Linctus’s own name silly. It was silly compared to the Chattus’ almost poetic name.</p><p>Raidho was silent again, and they didn’t speak for the rest of that day’s ride. Very soon the sun disappeared and the shadows underneath the trees grew longer. In a sheltered dip in the forest ground, Raidho halted the mare and dismounted. Linctus’s hands were still bound, so he had to endure the humiliation of Raidho taking him between his arms and lowering him onto the ground. Raidho gave the horse food and water out of one of the various bags that were tied to his saddle. </p><p>Another bag contained a loaf of the hard bread L had gotten the night before, and Raidho broke it in two pieces and handed one piece to Linctus. Linctus was starving and immediately began to gulp the bread down while the Chattus only nibbles on his and prepared the forest ground for the night.</p><p>When he was finished, he sat down and leant his head against a tree. He seemed tired from the long ride, which was no surprise considering they had left the Chatti camp in the middle of the night and had only taken a few minutes of break since then.</p><p>Linctus    sat down a few feet away from him and for the first time since their escape from the other Chatti, he took the time to give Raidho’s appearance a lingering look. He was the bigget man he had ever seen, aside from one or two gladiators maybe. In Rome the people said that all Germanic men had long, unkempt hair, more animalistic manes than actual hairstyles; Linctus knew that it wasn’t true, most of the barbarians he’d seen (including the Chatti) had had effortful hairdos with braids and knots, and some had short hair like the Romans.</p><p>Raidho however did have long hair. It had an almost unnatural  reddish colour and reached just below his shoulders; some single strands were braided into thin plaits which where held together by pieces of leather string. Once more Linctus noticed how much older and earnest the long beard made Raidho look, when in fact he couldn’t be much older than Linctus himself, 20 or 21 maybe.</p><p>Barely visible beneath the layers of hair and clothes, a metal ring wound tightly around Raidho’s neck. It was thin, almost delicate, and adorned with simple engraved patterns. </p><p>Roman men didn’t wear jewellery and accessories like that. In Linctus’s world, only a woman would wear bronze around her neck; and yet it didn’t look effeminate on the Chattus. It was exotic and complemented his unusual features.</p><p>Raidho’s clothes were almost as strange as the neck ring. His his knee length, linen shirt wasn’t much different than Linctus’s own tunic, the trousers however were a piece of clothing Linctus had never seen before he had come north of the Alps with his cohort. They were like a second skin, the fabric wrapped tightly around each of Raidho’s legs. They looked terribly impractical to Linctus who was surprised that the other man was able to ride his horse in these things. Linctus had never worn anything other than a tunic which didn’t restrict his legs in any way. He imagined that it must be uncomfortable to have one’s private parts trapped in linen.</p><p>Linctus didn’t care much for the trousers, what he really envied was the cloak Raidho wore. It was big and made out of fine green wool. Linctus knew how soft the material was since his fingers had brushed it several times during the ride. It had to be warm, too, because contrary to Linctus Raidh didn’t shiver in the evening chill. Raidho   had forgone a fire because the light and the smoke could have attracted his kinsmen or other potential threats and once more Linctus was freezing.</p><p>Raidho glanced at him and apparently noticed that he was trying to suppress the chattering of his teeth. “Are you cold, romanus?” he asked in his deep accent. Linctus hesitated to reply; he was sure that the Chattus was going to mock him if he admitted to his weakness.</p><p>When he finally shook his head, Raidho sighed and stood up from his spot by the tree. He mumbled something in his native language and made his way over to where he had laid down his saddle and bags. When he came back, he tossed whatever he had retrieved at Linctus, who instinctively tried to shield his face by yanking his arms up as far as the ties allowed him.</p><p>The thing hit him in the shoulder, soft and fluffy. A sheepskin. Linctus picked it up and stared over at Raidho who had settled back against the tree, his cloak around him.</p><p>“Thank… Thank you,” he said. “Why are you so kind to me?” This was not how the Chatti usually treated their slaves, Linctus was sure.</p><p>Raidho didn’t open his eyes as he replied: “You are my only chance to find who I am looking for. I don’t want you to die.” He went silent and Linctus thought he’d fallen asleep when he heard him add: “And it doesn’t cost me anything to give you this comfort.”</p><p>Once more, Linctus was puzzled by the Chattus’ behaviour. He’d ignored Linctus most of the day, and when he had talked to him he’d been unfriendly and stoic. At the same time, however, he had offered him food and water, and his touch was if not gentle at least not rough.</p><p>Every man Linctus knew, no matter if Roman, Germanic or Arabian, would have kicked his slave for asking for a blanket. Linctus had seen slaves being whipped to death for far minor incidents. Something about this Chattus was different, and he was determined to find out more about him.</p><p>“Why do you speak Latin?” he asked, because this question had bothered him all day. “You speak it well.”</p><p>It was too dark to make out Raidho’s face, but Linctus could have sworn he smiled at the compliment. “When I was a child, before…” He hesitated. “Before things turned bad, I learned your language from an old merchant who stayed in our village for a while. We gave him food and shelter, and he taught us to speak in Latin.”</p><p>“Why would your people want to speak Latin?” It made little sense for a tribe that fought so vehemently against the Romans to learn their language.</p><p>“Enough questions,” Raidho replied, suddenly gruff again. His moods changed like the wind, and every time he’d been friendly for a while he seemed angry and disappointed in himself. “Sleep, we have to continue our ride before dawn.”</p><p>Linctus accepted that the other man didn’t want to talk and wrapped himself in the sheepskin. It wasn’t nearly big enough to cover all of his body, and his bare legs were still exposed to the cold night air, but it was better than nothing.</p><p>Linctus was grateful for small mercies in this dire situation.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Reliance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Well, it's back. I'm sorry for the long wait!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The next few days continued much like the first. They spent the light hours in silence on the horseback, and the nights in silence in a sheltered place </span>
  <span>Raidho</span>
  <span> tried to find for them at the end of every day. It felt odd to be so close to the </span>
  <span>Chattus</span>
  <span> all the time, pressed up against his broad shoulders and nose buried in his warm coat, without ever exchanging more than two words. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>Raidho</span>
  <span>, where are we headed?” he finally asked, one morning on the fourth day of their ride.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t you read the sun, Roman? We’re going southwards, of course,” the other man replied gruffly. Linctus was undeterred by his harsh tone. He was beginning to learn that the Chattus’ bark was far worse than his bite.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I can see that we’re bound south, but what is our destination? Where are you bringing us?” he insisted.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Raidho</span>
  <span> sighed, turning his head back so that his eyes met L</span>
  <span>inctus</span>
  <span>’ for the fraction of a second.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to Rome, slave. The place where your people always take the free men and women they ripped away from their families.” The malice in </span>
  <span>Raidho’s</span>
  <span> words did not escape Linctus’ notice and for the first time in his life he wondered if this was how the indigenous people of the imperial colonies saw it. He’d grown up with the assumption that the slaves who worked on his father’s fields and crowded the streets of the Roman cities acknowledged the privilege they had, the privilege of living in civilisation and having the chance to buy themselves out and become citizens of Rome one day. Never had he thought that they might miss their old lives in their barbaric homesteads.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I... wait, no. They don’t necessarily take the slaves-” he began, but </span>
  <span>Raidho</span>
  <span> interrupted him by turning around and quickly slapping him across the cheek. Pain shot up Linctus’ face and he brought his hand up to touch the reddened skin. The strike had been much more forceful than he’d thought possible, and it was a reminder of the strength that was sleeping inside the tall </span>
  <span>Chattus</span>
  <span>, hidden beneath the gentle touches he was used from his new owner.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“My people aren't slaves, Roman,” he growled and held Linctus’ watery gaze for a second before turning back. “You will not refer to them in this way.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Linctus was furious, mainly because of the humiliation of being slapped like a clumsy servant girl. He was the son of a nobleman and not used to this kind of treatment.</span>
  <em>
    <span> But you’re a slave now, </span>
  </em>
  <span>a voice in the back of his mind reminded him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You belong to this man; he can do to you whatever pleases him.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Linctus shuddered. So far, </span>
  <span>Raidho</span>
  <span> had been exceptionally kind considering the circumstances, and Linctus realised that he’d given up his defences and trusted him far too quickly. He had to be more cautious in the future if he wanted to survive.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes... master,” he mumbled and ignored the shame that made his cheeks burn. “I just meant to say, not all the captured Germani are brought to Rome. Most of them end up on a market in </span>
  <span>Mogontiacum</span>
  <span> or Augusta.” Linctus had been to one of the slave markets back home once as a boy, when his father had gone there to select new men for the field work on their estate. It had been loud and confusing, a mix of languages and colours jumbled together on a meadow outside of the town. There had been thousands of people, men, women, children; all waiting for new owners to claim them.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t call me that. My name is still </span>
  <span>Raidho</span>
  <span>. Just... respect me.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Linctus resisted the urge to touch his tinging cheek, and they stayed silent for the rest of the day.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>----</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The night Raidho had snatched Linctus from his tribesmen, he’d taken several saddle bags with him, as well as his own weapons and one of the Roman swords the Chatti had captured from the soldiers they’d killed. Then, the bags had been filled with supplies, mostly sustenance, but after ten days of travel, the coarse bread and the dried apples were exhausted, despite the Chattus’ efforts to spread them out as long as possible, making the rations he gave to his captive smaller with every day that passed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked almost apologetic when, on a particularly cold evening, he handed Linctus a piece of bread that was only the size of a walnut. Linctus’ stiff fingers curled tightly around the precious fare and he looked up at the other man with wide eyes. He was hungry, he couldn’t deny that, military training notwithstanding. The endless hours on horseback were exhausting, the wet weather racked his tired bones and he still felt the pain of the days he’d spent stumbling through the mud behind the </span>
  <span>Chatti</span>
  <span> deep within his core.</span>
  
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t complain, Roman,” </span>
  <span>Raidho</span>
  <span> spat and turned away to stomp back to his spot on the other side of their small encampment under the shield of a mighty ash tree. He buried himself in his cloak and peeked at Linctus from under his bushy hair. His gaze was piercing, but Linctus didn’t care. Hungrily tearing into his meagre meal, it took him several moments to notice that the Chattus wasn’t eating.</span>
  
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Where is your ration?” he called out. Raidho snuggled deeper down into his furs and grunted non-committally. “I'm a warrior. I’m fine.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Linctus looked down at the bread in his hands, the hard grains crumbling under his fingers. The piece that was left was hardly more than a single mouthful, but he got to his feet and stumbled over to where the other man sat. “Here,” he said quietly and pressed the food into his large, rough hand. </span>
  <span>Raidho</span>
  <span> stared up at Linctus, then down onto his hand. “No.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, take it. You need to eat.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Raidho seemed surprised for half a heartbeat, his green eyes wide and vulnerable, but then he frowned and bit his lip. “I took you with me, so I’m responsible for you. I don’t have enough for both of us so, you eat.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He was stubborn, this barbarian, and Linctus knew that to insist on sharing the bread with him would hurt his pride. “All right,” he said and slowly walked back to his spot by the tree. He carefully chewed the bread and tried not to look at the bundle of furs under which Raidho was lying. When he swallowed, he couldn’t resist to send a little prayer to Jupiter to thank him for the meal, even though he knew it was the Chattus he had to be grateful to.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>----</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next day, Linctus felt worse than in all the time since he’d left Italy. His skin was crawling, and every muscle in his limbs seemed to be in flames. There was nothing he could do but to hold onto </span>
  <span>Raidho</span>
  <span> with what little strength he still had. The soft wool of his cloak and his steady heartbeat under Linctus’ fingertips pulled Linctus through the morning, but when they stopped to rest when the pale spring sun stood high in the sky, he found that he couldn’t stand up anymore. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Raidho</span>
  <span> called for him to get a move on before he noticed how slack Linctus’ body had gone.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>Linctus</span>
  <span>.” He crouched down next to him and gently shook his shoulder. “Linctus, are you not well?” His voice was soft, almost concerned.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know... I feel sick, I’m cold...” A shiver went through Linctus’ body and he coughed into the sleeve of his tunic. He felt miserable, but he tried not to show his pain too much. There was still a chance that </span>
  <span>Raidho</span>
  <span> would kill him or leave him behind if he thought that Linctus was of no use for him.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Skandaz</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Those bastards, they shouldn’t have made you sleep in the rain. It was so cold, and they just... And now you’re ill.” Raidho slammed his fist into the rough surface of the rock Linctus was propped up against. “Bastards.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Linctus raised his head to look at the other man. “I don’t understand. Why do you care? I thought you hate me,” he whispered.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t hate you. I never did. I hate your people, but you–” </span>
  <span>Raidho</span>
  <span> broke off and got back on his feet. “I need to find something to eat for you.” He turned his back to Linctus and started to fiddle with the leather strings on his mare’s saddle. Linctus was dumbfounded. The way </span>
  <span>Raidho</span>
  <span> talked, saying that the resentment and the deep anger that always seemed to be simmering just below the surface of his mind wasn’t directed at Linctus personally... It made him feel relieved. Happy, almost. As if he wanted the </span>
  <span>Chattus</span>
  <span> to like him. There was no sense in </span>
  <span>Raidho</span>
  <span>’s words, and much less in the way Linctus reacted to them.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t you hunt something for us?” L finally asked, focusing back on his growling stomach. The Germani were supposed to be skilled hunters, quick and brutal. The forest around them was full of creatures, both small and big. It shouldn’t have been a problem for </span>
  <span>Raidho</span>
  <span> to kill one of them.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Never hunted. My father is a farmer, he has fields and a few pigs. We don’t eat the forest animals.” </span>
  <span>Raidho</span>
  <span> spoke over his shoulder, still not looking at Linctus. “We’re not as wild as you Romans think we are, you know,” he said as if he’d read Linctus’ thoughts.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I can try to make a trap. Maybe the spirits of these woods are kind to us.” And with that, </span>
  <span>Raidho</span>
  <span> left their campsite. He went towards a small water course they had come by earlier and was soon swallowed by the thick green leaves. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Linctus leaned back against the mossy rock and inhaled the scent of the wet soil beneath him. He was tired, devitalised by hunger and cold. The last weeks had been hard on his body, but they’d also been far better than the short time he’d spent as captive of the </span>
  <span>Chatti</span>
  <span>. Back then, he’d been amidst enemies and was constantly scared. </span>
  <em>
    <span>At least I’m safe now,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thought, and before he had time to wonder when exactly he’d stopped to consider Raidho an enemy, he’d fallen asleep. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>---- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he woke up again, night had already fallen around him. The trees around were black shadows, illuminated by the red glimmer of a small fire. Raidho was kneeling next to the nest of ember, feeding the flames with brushwood until they were licking up into the darkness.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It was the first time the </span>
  <span>Chattus</span>
  <span> lit a fire; and the warmth and light it promised comforted </span>
  <span>Linctus</span>
  <span> more than he’d expected it would.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>Raidho</span>
  <span>?” Linctus called quietly and tried to sit up. He noticed something heavy falling into his lap as he did so and stretched his hand out to feel what it was. His fingers met with smooth, sleek hairs. There were furs draped all around him, and when he dug deeper into </span>
  <span>them</span>
  <span> he could feel soft wool as well. It was Raidho’s cloak. The other man must’ve buried Linctus in all of his extra clothing and cover while he’d been asleep.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you’re awake. Good. I caught a rabbit.” Raidho walked up to him, wiping his palms on his pant legs. “Just need to cook it.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You gave me your cloak,” Linctus’ blurted out.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You were shivering.” The glow of the fire fell on </span>
  <span>Raidho’s</span>
  <span> hair, making it even redder than usual. His large frame was not much more than a silhouette, but Linctus could still see his shrug.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“But it’s so valuable, and you'll be cold–” Raidho was wearing nothing but his overshirt and the linnen pants.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I said, you were shivering. Be quiet, Roman,” </span>
  <span>Raidho</span>
  <span> mumbled. He turned back to the fire and began to prepare the small carcass of the rabbit he’d caught. “Come here, it’s warmer,” he said. Linctus scrambled up, careful not to let any of the furs fall into the dirt, and made his way over to the fire. Raidho was busy skinning the animal. He slit it open from its throat over the belly down to the hind legs and removed a handful of slimy, bloody guts. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Linctus was glad that it was dark even next to the glowing flames, because he knew how bad he was at hiding his disgust. He’d grown up on big farm, yes, but his other had known about his squeamishness and always made sure that her son was far away from the kitchens on slaughtering days. As always, even the tiniest memory of his mother made tears well up in his eyes, and he quickly turned his head away from the light to hide them.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Raidho didn’t notice, immersed in his work. He dug a small hole in the ground next to the fireplace and placed the rabbit innards inside almost reverently. Strange, guttural words fell from his lips as he covered it all back up with dirt and leaves, and he closed his eyes for a moment.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What was that?” Linctus asked cautiously once R had turned back to the meat. The tall man hummed and quickly impaled the carcass on two thick sticks which he placed over the flames.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I thanked the spirit of the animal. I promised it to use its body wisely and I thanked the Gods for helping me to find food.” He gave Linctus a curious glance. “You don’t offer sacrifices to your Gods? I think I heard you pray the first night after we captured you.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I did. And we do sacrifice to the Gods, but not like this. We make special offerings for them, cakes, salt, saffron water...”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What is saffron?” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Saffron is a spice, it’s made of thousands of flowers that come from our colonies in the far east. It can turn any food golden.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“And this is what you give to your Gods? Flowers?” The </span>
  <span>Chattus</span>
  <span> looked unimpressed. “What kinds of Gods to you serve, anyway?” </span>
  <span>Raidho</span>
  <span> leaned back on his elbows and stared into the fire. He seemed relaxed and almost friendly, even if he was still alert to every single rustling of leaves and snapping of branches around them. It was the first time after the day he had stolen Linctus that they talked like this. If Linctus hadn’t been so ill, he’d have enjoyed the conversation.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The Roman pantheon was vast and full of obscure spirits and legends, but Linctus did his best to explain his religion to Raidho. By the time he’d outlined the relations between Jupiter, his wife Juno and their numerous children and talked about the meaning of his personal spirit, his genius, their meal was fully cooked. Raidho pulled the dark meat off the bones and offered it to Linctus, who took it gratefully and chewed it slowly and carefully. Raidho however devoured his share in a few bites, which reminded Linctus that the other man hadn’t eaten in two days. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You shouldn’t give me all the food. You need it too.” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Raidho swallowed the last piece of meat and wiped the corner of his mouth with his hand. “Need you more. Your knowledge’s too valuable, and I risked too much for this plan to let you starve to death now.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>There it was again, this plan that to </span>
  <span>Raidho</span>
  <span> was worth venturing his own life for, but he hadn't even thought through enough to know that not all Roman captives were brought to Rome. “Could you...” Linctus’ pride almost stopped him from asking, but he needed clarity. “Please, could you tell me what exactly you are looking for?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Raidho hesitated for only a breath before he answered.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“My mother.” He looked out into the dark </span>
  <span>branches;</span>
  <span> his mouth pressed into a thin line. “She was taken by your soldiers, in an attack five winters ago.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The fire and the furs had been enough to warm Linctus, but now icy fingers creeped through his chest, clutching his heart and making him want to retch what little food he’d had. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“The men in my tribe are foolish,” </span>
  <span>Raidho</span>
  <span> continued, “they think that they just need to take vengeance on the Romans and everything will be as it was before, the ones we lost will be honoured and welcomed by the Gods. Maybe that is so. But I want to save my mother.” He turned his head and looked directly at Linctus, his hard eyes bore right through him. “Do you understand why I have to? Will you help me?”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Linctus choked out.</span>
  <em>
    <span> If only you knew. </span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Neither man spoke for a while as they watched the last flames dying before them. “That is why you hate Rome, right?” Linctus mumbled just as </span>
  <span>Raidho</span>
  <span> was about to stand up. “Because it hurt your family.” It had been on his mind all night, ever since the other man had admitted that his hatred did not include Linctus himself.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>To his surprise, </span>
  <span>Raidho</span>
  <span> shook his head. “No. We’re warriors, we fight against our enemies and take their wives and children sometimes just like you. But Rome... You are rich, you have a good life. Why is the empire so greedy? Why don’t you ever have enough? You always want more and more.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Rome doesn’t conquer out of greed or for its own benefit. The empire wants to bring civilisation and peace to all the other countries. We don’t come to subdue, we come to improve.” Linctus repeated his father’s, his teacher’s words, often recited to him until they became truth. As he spoke them now though, now where he knew Raidho, he realised that what the politicians and generals said couldn’t be entirely true. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The Germanic people weren’t wild, they weren’t barbaric. They had strange</span>
  <span> and rough</span>
  <span> customs</span>
  <span>, but they knew how to fight and </span>
  <span>manufacture just as well as the Romans did.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Raidho was no half beast. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He had honour and grace like no other man Linctus knew.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I will occasionally post some historical facts on tumblr, so if you’re interested in the background of the time this story is set in, visit me: @cryo-girl</p></blockquote></div></div>
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